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Updated: June 16, 2025
It was an unfortunate allusion, and Warble, smiling with an engaging smile, wheedled, "Pleathe, pleathe " "No," Petticoat said, inexorably, "if you eat all the time you'll get to look like that soprano. Howja like that?" "Do you care if I'm fat, Bill?" "Me? Why, I wouldn't care if you were as big as a house. You're my well, you're my soulmate." "Oh, I'm so had and glappy! It's sweet to be yours.
And O, she takes cake, all secret, out of her new mother's tin chest. I don't know what will become of Jennie Vance." Mrs. Parlin was about to say more, when Miss Flyaway, who had been all over the house in two minutes, danced in, saying, "the Charlie boy" had come! It was little lisping Charlie Gray, saying, "If you pleathe, 'm, may we have the Deacon to go to mill?
This was no time for words, nor were any uttered until nothing but the blackened skin of the potato was left. "Thave me!" gasped Tommy. "Pleathe, may I have another?" "Don't you think it would be well to wait for supper?" suggested Miss Elting. "In your greediness you have forgotten the others." "I beg your pardon, but I wath tho hungry!
"There's a Bairns' Restaurant," said Warble, shyly, "we might go there." They did. In a taxicab. He held her in his lap and told her the news. He had had his own rooms done over. Mediaeval setting. Romanesque arches. Stained-glass windows. Sculptured cloisters. Good work. "How are the twins?" she asked, timidly. "Pleathe." "Fine. Miss you terribly we all do. Butterfly Center mourns your loss.
He danced about the room, in his blue burnous and red tarbush, looking more like a howling dervish than a tempestuous Petticoat. Warble thought a minute. A baby would be nice and perhaps she could reform that more easily than she could older people. "All right," she said, "and I'll have beautiful gaternity mowns of shuffy fliffon I mean, fliffy shuffon, no shiffy fluffon oh, pleathe pleathe "
Get Buthter out of the way, pleathe." "She doesn't know whether she is going or coming," was Margery's withering comment. "Oh, thith ith eathy," declared Tommy. "All you have to do ith to take hold of the rope with both handth, lean back ath if you were looking at a bird flying over your head and Thave me! oh, thave me!"
"Yes, you little simpleton. I know!" He growled angrily. "Shall I tell you tell you the truth about the Butterflies?" "Pleathe pleathe " "I will! You ought to know you gullible little fool. Well, to start with, Avery Goodman in his true nature, he's a worldly, carnal man. His religion is a cloak, a raincoat, a mere disguise. Mrs. Charity Givens, now, she's no more truly charitable than I am!
"Won't you pleathe tell uth where we are going?" lisped Grace Thompson. Miss Elting shook her head, with decision. "Do my father and mother know where we are going?" persisted Grace. "Of course they know, Tommy. The parents of each of you know, and I know, and so shall you after you reach your destination. Have you everything in the car, Jane?" "Everything but myself," nodded Jane.
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